


No Thanks

by dillonmania



Series: The Dillonsverse [6]
Category: The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Gen, Holidays, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/pseuds/dillonmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving can be more trouble than it seems!</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Thanks

The morning of Thanksgiving Day, Roscoe Dillon got up earlier than the rest of his family, intending to go to his workshop before having to prepare for the evening’s big dinner. He was just stepping out of the shower when the doorbell rang. Annoyed, he looked at the clock and decided to ignore the bell. It soon rang again.  
 _What does that goddamned old biddy want now?_ he fumed to himself, pulling a towel around his waist. _I told her to stop bothering us in the morning!_  
Deciding that the sight of him in just a towel might horrify their elderly neighbour into leaving them alone, he stormed to the door and swung it open…  
…only to find Len Snart and Mark Mardon standing there.  
“Uh…” Len started, but trailed off. They all looked at each other in awkward silence for twenty seconds, and then Roscoe cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
“Well, I guess you’d better come in.”  
“Did we come at a bad time?” Mark asked with guileless innocence as they stepped inside, and Roscoe stared at him in disbelief.  
“We weren’t expecting Len for another eight hours! And nobody said anything about _you_ showing up! So yes, I suppose you did come at a bad time…let me get dressed.”  
He stomped away, muttering under his breath, but still heard Len snicker “Nice legs, Dillon,” before escaping to the sanctuary of his bedroom.

“Who’s there, baby?” Lisa asked sleepily as her husband marched into the room, seething.  
“Your brother! And he brought Mardon!”  
“But he wasn’t supposed to get here until four!”  
“Apparently, schedules mean little to the famed Captain Cold.”  
“Oh, he’ll ruin everything!” she fretted, sitting up in bed. “I wanted things to be ready before he got here!”  
“Take it up with him.”  
“I will,” she replied grimly, intending to give her brother a piece of her mind. But when she went out to the living room, she discovered the children had gotten there first.  
“Uncle Lenny! Uncle Marky!” they squealed with delight, jumping up and down around them, and Len affectionately ruffled their hair.  
“Look how big you guys are getting!” he praised, and then reached into the bag he’d brought with him. “I got you chocolate.”  
“Awesome!” they chimed in unison, greedily taking their treats and popping some into their mouths before Lisa could protest. “Thanks, Uncle Lenny!”  
“And I brought you toys,” Mark said cheerfully. “Little miniature weather wands! They don’t work, of course,” he added hastily, seeing the appalled look on Lisa’s face.  
“Pow!” Star exclaimed, bopping her little brother on the head with her wand, and he began to chase her. Fuelled by sugar and excitement, the kids now had plenty of energy to burn off.  
“Nate looks eerily like Dillon, doesn’t he?” Len muttered to Mark, who nodded. “Hope he grows up to be less ugly.”  
Mark, well aware of what Len thought of his brother-in-law, simply nodded again tactfully. It was easier for harmony and his own sanity that way. Unfortunately, he feared neither harmony nor sanity would prevail when a clearly steaming Lisa made her way over to them.

“What the hell are you doing here so early?” she demanded. “I don’t have anything ready! The turkey isn’t in the oven, the house isn’t cleaned…nothing! And you’ve brought an extra person!”  
“Calm down, sis,” Len soothed her. “We don’t care if the house is clean. We’re just here for the food and the company. Mardon was lonely, so I told him to come along.”  
“Yeah,” Mark piped up. “Hope that’s okay.”  
“Well, I’m hardly going to kick you out now…” she replied, although she was thinking of somehow doing exactly that. However, he looked at her so earnestly that she couldn’t bear to do it.  
“Fine. But you guys have to help -- you can keep an eye on the kids while I’m cooking,” she told them. “And we still need to get dressed and have breakfast.”  
“Hey, no problem,” Len said. “I love those kids; it’ll be a blast!”

Three hours later, Len was nearly a broken man.   
“No more horsey, guys, my back is killing me,” he pleaded, and the children’s faces fell.  
“But you promised we could play!” Star complained from her perch on his back, and Nathaniel pouted as only he could.  
“That was hours ago!” Len protested. “We _have_ played! Isn’t it time for you two to have a nap or something?”  
“Naps are for babies,” Star said scornfully. “Like Nate.”  
“I’m not a baby!” whined Nate. “I’m gonna tell Mom you said that!”  
“You’d better not,” Len shuddered, remembering how she yelled the last time he disturbed her. “Why don’t you play with Uncle Mark instead?”  
“He’s not as fun as you. And I think he’s still in the bathroom.”  
Their uncle sighed. “Okay, if I give you some more candy, will you sit quietly for a few minutes?”  
“Yes!!” they declared in excited unison, and he pulled a bag of jellybeans from his pocket.

Straight from the kitchen, Roscoe knocked at the bathroom door. “Are you still in there, Mardon? I brought you some fresh ice.”  
The door opened, and a weary Mark took the icepack gratefully, gingerly placing it against the fair-sized bump on the side of his head.   
“Sorry about that,” Roscoe said. “Those kids do get overly rambunctious at times. You should see what they’ve done to me over the years.”  
“I can imagine,” Mark mumbled ruefully. He then took a good look at the other man and cocked an eyebrow. “But, uh…why are you wearing an apron?”  
Roscoe scowled darkly at him. “Mention it to Len, and I will kill you. It was Lisa’s idea, of course.”  
“Of course,” Mark replied, with the hint of a smirk. “It looks good on you.”  
“Perhaps you’d like another lump on your head..?” his host inquired irritably.

Eventually a terribly embarrassed Roscoe slunk back into the kitchen, where Lisa was staring with grim determination at the newly-stuffed turkey.  
“I’m not wearing this ridiculous thing anymore,” he complained, pulling off the apron. “If your brother sees it, he’ll never let me forget it.”  
“And I’ll never let you forget it if you get stains on your clothes,” she retorted, brandishing a serving spoon at him. “Do you know how hard it is to get cranberry off of fabric?”  
“Then I will do it naked,” he threatened, crossing his arms petulantly.  
“Don’t be stupid. That isn’t the slightest bit hygienic. Put the apron back on.”  
“Fine,” he grumbled with a sullen expression. “Next year, we’re going to your brother’s place, and _he_ can cook.”  
“Are you kidding? The fanciest thing he makes is canned spaghetti. No, we should have a proper Thanksgiving dinner, it’s important. To show we’re a real family.”  
“I’ll take canned spaghetti over this damned apron…” he muttered crossly under his breath.  
“What was that, Roscoe?”  
“Nothing, dear.”

“Man, I hope they’ll be done with dinner soon,” Len sighed tiredly to Mark, who was sitting nearby with the icepack still pressed against his head. “Where do kids get all this energy, anyway?”  
“Maybe you shouldn’t have given them so much candy,” Mark said with obvious disapproval. His mood had soured a bit since getting knocked on the head.  
“Or I shoulda laced it with Valium.”  
“Can’t imagine how _that_ could go wrong.”  
It was at that moment Star came running over to them, looking both frantic and guilty.  
“Uncle Lenny! Nate picked up Uncle Marky’s wand and…”  
“Oh shit!” Len cursed, immediately regretting his choice of words in front of his niece, but with more pressing matters at hand. The two men scrambled to Nathaniel’s room, and were horrified to discover an indoor blizzard.  
“It’s snowing!” Nate exclaimed joyfully, jumping up and down with delighted glee. He was still holding the weather wand in his hand, and the snow immediately changed to driving rain as he waved it.  
“Give me that!” Mark yelped, snatching it away, and the freak storm ceased. But Nate began to cry, upset about being yelled at and losing his new toy.  
“Lisa is gonna kill us,” Len remarked in an awed tone, looking around at the damage. The entire room and its contents were a write-off, as everything was completely sodden. The carpet squelched under an inch of water, with toys bobbing in the lake -- and it began to leak into the hall.  
“I think so,” Mark replied quietly.  
“Why the hell did you leave that thing where they could reach it??”  
“I thought they couldn’t!”  
“Mommy and Daddy are going to be sooooo mad,” Star announced helpfully, and Len put his head in his hands.  
“Okay, we can salvage this. Mardon, make some winds that’ll dry everything up, and maybe the damage won’t be so bad.”  
Mark nodded, and Len herded the kids out of the room while he went to work. Len tried to hush Nate’s crying, but the boy wouldn’t be soothed, for he’d just realized he’d ruined his own possessions. Eventually Roscoe stepped out of the kitchen, having heard his son’s sobs, and went to investigate the strange noises coming from Nathaniel’s room. He looked inside, turned pale, and went back to the kitchen without a word.

_“Are you kidding me?!?”_  
Len winced when he heard Lisa’s shriek, knowing the jig was up.  
“Well, that’s it, guys, it was nice knowing you,” he told the kids sombrely. “Your mom’s going to kill me.”  
Lisa came storming out of the kitchen, Roscoe behind her (still wearing the apron, but nobody cared by this point), and they stared at the remains of Nate’s room in dismay.  
“Lenny!!” Lisa screamed. “You were supposed to be watching them!!”  
“I’m really sorry, sis…” he began, but the angry parents quickly cut him off.  
“…they could have gotten hurt…”  
“…do you know how much it’s going to cost to replace everything…”  
“…where is Nate supposed to sleep…”  
“…Thanksgiving is ruined…”  
“Hey, it doesn’t have to be ruined,” Len said with obvious guilt. “It’ll only be ruined if you let it.”  
“I think I’m going to have a nervous breakdown,” Lisa declared shakily as Roscoe tried to comfort her. He got her to sit down on the couch, and fanned her with a nearby magazine.

“Well, the room’s as dry as it’s going to get,” Mark announced loudly. “Most of the stuff’s still wrecked, but at least you won’t get mildew.”  
“Does that mean I get to sleep with you, Mommy?” Nate asked, and Roscoe sighed.  
“Yes, Nate, I suppose it does.” Then he narrowed his eyes at his brother-in-law. “You’d better make this up to us, Leonard.”  
“Of course! I’ll give you some cash right now,” Len replied, desperate to make his sister feel better, and pulled out a large wad of bills.  
“Wow, Uncle Lenny, did you rob a bank?” Star exclaimed with wide eyes, and all the adults blanched.  
“Uh no, kid, I…won the lottery,” he said lamely, and Roscoe rolled his eyes.  
“Where did you get the idea that he’d robbed a bank?” Lisa asked curiously as she took the money, and Star shrugged.  
“I saw it on TV. There’s lots of bank robbers, Mommy. Don’t you know who the Rogues are?”  
Mark looked thoroughly embarrassed by the conversation, but Roscoe was getting annoyed. “No more talk of bank robbers,” he told the children sharply, and stalked back to the kitchen, ostensibly to check on the turkey. Out of sight, he paced around the room and muttered about Len and the Rogues ruining his life.  
Lisa put her arms around Nate, who had curled up on her lap and was sucking his thumb.  
“Daddy’s just grumpy today,” she explained to the kids, and Len snorted derisively.  
“Whaddya mean, just today?”

By suppertime, everyone was fairly subdued. Lisa and Roscoe were still irritable about the day’s various catastrophes, Len and Mark were feeling guilty about their roles in said disasters, and the children had upset stomachs from too much candy.  
“I don’t wanna eat!” Star complained, squirming restlessly in her chair. “I wanna lie down and watch TV.”  
“It’s a special family dinner, and you will stay,” Lisa told her firmly, and glared at her brother for the third time that hour. He mouthed “I’m sorry” at her with a pitiable expression.  
The turkey had gotten somewhat overcooked thanks to all the distractions, and Roscoe had washed his hands of the whole thing. When Lisa asked if he wanted to carve it, he refused, and Len ended up doing the honours with a self-conscious air.  
“I’ll help!” offered Mark, eager to please, but in his rush, he dropped all the plates. Len noted later that Roscoe’s response was the first time he’d actually seen someone do a facepalm. Lisa just sighed and went to get a dustpan.

“So…this is nice,” Len announced in a strained voice once the mess had been cleaned up and dinner served. “It’s good to get together with family…and Mardon.”  
Nate promptly threw up on the floor next to his chair, and his father carried him away to get washed up. When they returned, Roscoe had a mostly-cleaned vomit stain on his front, which he grumpily declined to explain, but Nate gleefully declared “I barfed on Daddy!”  
“I…oh, hell. I admit it, this is a disaster,” Len finally admitted. “Maybe we should have a do-over.”  
“Oh no, we’re not doing this again,” Lisa retorted. “At least, I’m not doing more cooking. Next year, we’re going out to eat.”  
“Thank God,” Roscoe muttered, although she kicked his shin before he could get to “I told you so.”  
Everyone ate and brooded in silence, but the generally poor mood was suddenly broken by the cheery chimes of the doorbell, which Roscoe went to answer.  
“Hey,” Mick Rory said sheepishly, “is there room for one more?”


End file.
